Summary

Keeping the triplets away from Scrooge for ten whole years meant steering clear of a thousand things. It took dedication. And he’d always had a talent for surviving, even in the most hopeless situations.

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Summary

"God," Harry whispers, borderline frantic, "god I can't wait to get your cock in me, you don't know how long I've wanted it."

"You never said." He gives Harry another dripping wet finger, working the two in side by side with a steadiness that's so much calmer than his racing heart, and Harry whines like he's being tortured.

"You seemed so satisfied with the way things were."

"Since when have you cared a jot about maintaining any kind of status quo?" Hamish asks, teasing Harry with the words just as much as the fingers twisting slowly deeper in his arse.

Harry looks like the pretty, pale boys in old Victorian dirty photos, bare porcelain skin in the lamplight and a blush in his cheeks that looks like it's been tinted with a paintbrush. "Since your happiness overtook every other objective of my life."